


Slow Burn: A Zutara Story

by cgreene



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drama & Romance, F/M, Healing, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgreene/pseuds/cgreene
Summary: It's been three years since Aang lost his battle to the Fire Lord. Katara now works in a refugee camp in the earth kingdom, where she's been accepted solely based on her ability to heal. The world has become dark and brutal, and just when Katara is about to give up hope, the redeemed prince winds up in her life and realizes he might be able to help her heal too.
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84





	1. Part One: Healing Hands

Katara had been living in the Earth Kingdom refugee settlement for over two years now. Well, she couldn't really call it that, there was no Earth Kingdom anymore. Everything was Fire Nation now, ever since Aang failed to defeat the Phoenix King, allowing him to bring the world to its knees and harness it in his reign of fire. Katara had had hope, briefly, that Zuko would have been able to do it. He certainly had the desire, the drive, to stop the Fire Lord once and for all. She didn't often think about it, but sometimes the memory would float back to her, the damaged fire prince, still bandaged from his fight with Azula, sheathing his dual swords and promising Katara he'd finish it.

"I'll do what the Avatar couldn't. When the final moment comes, when I have to kill him… My whole life has prepared me for this moment. I won't hesitate, I won't hold back. I have no reason to."

Katara remembered wanting to kiss him, there and then, inspired by his determination, in awe of his ability to face this unimaginable burden head on. In love, almost, or so she once thought.

But he wasn't able to face it really, or all the stories said.

Ozai chopped down Zuko almost as easily as he'd defeated Aang, and with no one left in the world to challenge him, he blazed forth, his fires the engines of a new world order.

Ba Sing Se surrendered, as did all of the water tribes, all the other cities. There was no one left, no one willing, to stand against him.

Katara knew this because she'd tried. She'd searched far and wide, saying out loud what she only should have whispered, looking for anyone willing to stand against him. But she found nothing about her brother or Toph, both believed to have died in a failed air raid. Nothing about the White Lotus, no matter how many stupid games of pai sho she'd played. All the Kyoshi Worriers had been killed. There were no allies, no benders, no anything willing to challenge the Phoenix King.

So Katara stopped as well. Once she realized she had no place to go, that it didn't matter where she went, she found herself, after about a year of wandering alone, amongst a large refugee settlement somewhere in what used to be the Earth Kingdom. The Fire Nation controlled all the cities, but deep in the countryside, where so many fled, the people were in a certain sense free from the Phoenix King's tyranny.

Free to starve. Free to suffer. Free to die, it mostly seemed to Katara, but at least his army wasn't usually around to torment them.

She did what she could. There were plenty of people there that needed her help. As an outsider, it cost her dearly to gain acceptance with the understandably untrusting Earth Kingdom people, still bitter the water tribes hadn't come to their aid when Ozai burned their kingdom down.

"Where were you waterbenders when we needed you!" They'd shouted at her, spat at her.

There was nothing Katara could say. But she earned her way with her ability to heal, and she was eventually accepted into the community. Or, as much as a watertribes woman could be. At least she wasn't fire nation, they so often told her.

She didn't know why it mattered. If she'd learned anything over the past few years, it'd been that just about all people were the same, no matter where they came from, they were all capable of violence, hatred, even cruelty.

Shouldn't they have known better? She originally thought, as she treated the burn wounds, the scorched scars, shouldn't these people, who have suffered so much, not want to inflict such pain on anyone else?

But they did. And gladly it seemed at times.

They'd bring the survivors to her tent. All firebenders were killed. Anyone else was free to stay if she could heal them and they could earn their keep.

Refugees were coming in from all over. She'd seen many of her own people, water tribesmen passing through, looking for work. Mostly, they came from the Earth Kingdom cities Ozai hadn't burned, people trying to escape his harsh rule, wanting to scratch out a descent life in the unburnt forests and hills. But sometimes, the people were from the Fire Nation. They said they were enemies of Ozai, opponents of the crown. Mostly, Katara thought, they were just normal people just looking for a better life, like everyone one.

But Patzu, the settlement's leader, wasn't going to take any chances. He was a veteran soldier from the Earth Kingdom, and he'd fought the Fire Nation countless times at the walls of Ba Sing Se. At first, everyone from the Fire Nation was slaughtered. But soon there grew to be too many, and they were mostly from the colonies, just as much a part of the Earth Kingdom as the Fire Nation, they pled.

And thus, the Crucible was created. Their firebending test. Anyone suspected of being Fire Nation was thrown in and beaten so badly, that they'd have to use their bending skills, if they had any.

Nearly everyone it seemed loved to gather round and watch it, the Earth Kingdom fighters, the settlement's leaders, all attacked.

At first, Katara didn't know what was worse: the sound of the victims crying out, great gasping sobs pleading for mercy, for forgiveness, for death even sometimes. Or the crying of the crowd, full-throated, frenzied hollers, excited for blood.

Now, she mostly didn't care. She kept to her tent and dealt with what was brought to her, surrounded by earthen vessels and jars full of water, waiting to heal the survivors, knowing her ability to fix the body was hardly half the work.

Honestly, the burns were usually the easiest to tend. Water, as fire's natural opposite, worked well to sooth those wounds, and if she saw her patients soon enough, she could erase the injuries entirely.

The shattered bones, though, the hacked limbs, great long gashes and deep days-old stab wounds…those were the ones she struggled with. But she'd seen just about everything by this point, and she didn't think anything could surprise her.

Until they brough her him.

"Katara, we've got a survivor," Hiran, a big, brutish man who worked for the settlement's guard, called to her.

Katara had heard the screaming earlier. She'd figured someone been taken to the crucible.

"This one's not a bender, so Patzu says he can stay, if he lives."

Katara went to one of her large pots of water called the liquid to her until it swirled around both her arms.

Hiran dropped the unconscious body facedown on her worktable and left without another word.

Just like a man, Katara thought, never sticking around to clean up their own mess.

She channeled the water in a great globe that floated before her and prepared herself to treat the wounds.

The man's back was a bloody mess. They must have been using the whips today, she thought, as she took a small blade from her side table and cut away the clothes.

Her eyes widened at what she saw. Not exactly surprising, but worse than she'd expected. It'd been a few weeks since they'd used the Crucible, and she suspected many of the men wanted in on the fun.

Katara pulled some of the water down from the spinning globe and began her healing. In a soft sheet, she ran it over the man's back, at first cleaning the wounds, and then gently moving the flesh into place, she let her water fill every cut, sensing how deep they went, where the damage was. She ran her water through the bloody cracks and cervices of the skin, washing over the wounds softly, pulling the water back and forth. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the ocean's waves, combing back and forth, again and again until everything was polished and pure.

When she opened her eyes, the skin on the back was healed. It was still raw and red, but the wounds were mended.

She next cut away the rest of his shirt and inspected his arms. They were also covered in gashes and a few deep, deep cuts. The worse of the cuts were on the underside of his forearms, probably defensive wounds, she figured, if he tried to shield himself in the fight. She could tell a couple were from blades and suspected they might have gone down to the bone. Mending skin was one thing, but muscle, bone, that was another matter entirely. Katara just clicked her tongue and began to work.

The Guardsmen usually weren't this brutal, she thought to herself, as her healing waters explored the deep, painful wounds on the man's arms. He had a strong, muscular frame. Like he could have been a soldier, so she wondered if he'd tried to put up a bit of a fight. She just shook her head, knowing it was useless, both his actions and her thoughts.

Her water flowed through his wounds slowly, again washing away the blood, the dirt, trying to fill up the spaces in the broken body, trying to make it whole. Katara again imagined the ocean, she almost heard the sound of its eternal waves, coming back and forth again and again, calming.

When she opened her eyes and looked down at the body, she'd made less progress than she had on the back. She really wasn't one for healing muscle or bone. Her orb of bright water still floating, she went over to her table and grabbed some ointment and bandages. Some healing just had to happen on its own, she knew, and she gently began applying it to the wounds, wrapping them carefully, cleanly.

She then turned him over, gently, cutting the last scrapes of shirt from his torso. She gasped audibly when she saw the wound to his abdomen. It was a gruesome sight. She couldn't blame Hiran and his goons for this. This injury was days old. And deep, she shuddered, realizing it was badly infected. She cursed to herself and pulled more water from her orb. The water surrounded both hands, she began massaging her fingers in it, every so softly, just an inch or two above his skin.

Infection was ugly things to work with and hard to pull from the body. She could never do it completely, but she closed her eyes and opened her other senses. She imagined moonlit water, dappled water shining bright, sparks of darkness lost into light. Her slender fingers continued moving, as if she was probing the pooled water, trying to sense that which didn't belong in him. It was hard word, like trying to separate the water from the light, but if she concentrated hard enough, she could do it, and she pulled the infection from the body. He let out a deep, painful groan, and the little pool of water turned dark.

Katara discarded the infected water with a disgusted splash, sending it to the fire on the other side of the room. She pulled more water from her floating orb and now focused on healing this deep wound in the man's gut. She kept her eyes open this time and continued inspecting the body. It was darkening with many bruises and had a few other gashes on his chest. But they appeared to be minor and would be easy to heal. But she was shocked to notice so many scars.

A couple clean, light lines that she assumed were old and from blades. One was jagged and red. No healer'd been around to help him with that one. But this man had so many burns. Some were dark and twisted, others like a splash of flame seared onto his chest. Katara thought he should have just taken off his shirt for Hiran, this was evidence enough to prove he was no friend of the Fire King.

Katara wasn't able to completly heal his stomach wound, but felt she'd made good work of it after some time. She then called more water down and held it like a thin sheet over the man's chest. She knew scars had already healed, but she'd been working hard to help erase them. There were so many people with scorch scars here, so many who asked her to help make them go away. At first, she refused, she only wanting to help the people who actually needed healing, not just undo an ugly scar.

"Looks like your body figured out how to heal without me!" she'd told one man, coldly. He hung his head low and shuffled away.

It wasn't until a young girl, maybe 14, was brought to her. Her face had been badly, badly burned. Worse than Zuko's. Worse than anything she'd ever seen. The mother begged her, the daughter had to marry, but who would marry a woman who looked like this? Katara had to stop herself from laughing.

That burn might be a blessing if it keeps your daughter from having to marry, she really wanted to say. But she knew marriage was practically unavoidable. That was true in the culture as well as here, and while she fought hard not to be tied to one man, she also knew this wasn't what everyone wanted, so she agreed.

It took several long and painful sessions, but Katara was able to smooth the young girl's skin. She let the water move gently over her skin, circling around again and again, imagining rain, washing away dirt, leaving the world looking fresh in new light.

There was still a certain shine to parts of the girl's face, but her skin was soft and smooth by the time Katara was done, and there was so much happiness in the girl's eyes. Katara hadn't seen that in such a long time…

Katara couldn't help but remember how quickly that light faded after the girl was married, just a year later. She now walked around with the same dull and downcast eyes she'd had before receiving Katara's help. But at least now she had a pretty face.

Her water circled around again and again above the man's chest. Katara didn't know if it mattered, but she figured she could take away at least a couple colors worth of pain.

She loosened the belt from his pants and gently pulled them down. She called down a couple streams of water that she washed over his legs and placed a cloth over his privates.

Hiran and his men liked to joke her for this. "Do you think we men care about modesty?" They'd always laugh.

But Katara was doing it for her sake as much as her patients, giving these poor, broken people a bit of dignity, and plus, it was nothing she wanted to see.

There were a couple deep cuts to the man's leg, from the same blade that got his arms, she supposed. She bet it was from Quan or Ro Li, they both liked to make people bleed. Hiran was more a fan of broken ribs and bruising. But this man looked like he got his fair share of it all.

Poor man, she thought to herself. It looked like he'd suffered through more than most.

After finishing his legs, she revisited the wound on his stomach again, but wasn't able to get much further, so she applied more ointment and bandages. She was gentle as she applied them, noticing how deeply his body was bruising from the fight. Strangely, she'd never been able to do anything about bruises, so he was going to have to hurt for some time.

She reached up for a bit more water from her spinning orb, and moved to tend to his face. A mess of matted black hair that probably reached down past his chin was clotted with dirt and blood. So much blood, she realized and hoped Hiran and his men hadn't given him a horrible head wound, cursing herself for not inspecting it first.

What was the point of spending hours healing his body if there'd been too much damage to his brain?

When she brushed the tangled mane aside, she gasped at what she saw.

Not at the man's wounds. Or scars. But his face.

"Zuko?!"


	2. Part One: Healing Hands - Chapter Two

Her hand jumped to her mouth, like it wanted to quiet her. Almost like it knew she shouldn't say his name.

"Zuko," she repeated, barely a breath this time.

The water from her floating orb crashed to the ground and she flew to him, her hands on his face, her skin touching his.

She couldn't believe it. Everyone said he'd been dead. Ozai, the Fire Lord, the Phoenix King, his father, had killed him.

But as she held him, searching his features, she knew it was him.

Once she recomposed herself, she called more water to her. She encased her hands in it and begin combing it through his hair, gently cleaning the dark matts, easing the tangles out and washing away the dirt and blood. It was then she found the source, a deep gash near his hairline. She held her palm above it, willing it to heal, and it did. She then gently cleaned the rest of his face, and set his head down softly, noticing the faint stubbled across his upper lip and chin, a new scar, a white line made by a clean blade, just an inch over his left eye, slicing near where his eyebrow should have been, if it hadn't been for the burned

He was still knocked out, thankfully, and she had no idea when he'd wake. She wondered what had happened to him, what brought him here, and then, taking a step back, wondered what man she'd become.

As she cleaned up the last of her medical supplies and collected all the fallen water, she realized she had no idea who he was now.

She'd certainly changed a lot. It would be silly of her to think he hadn't as well.

The only thing she knew was that if Patzu found out he was a firebender, he'd kill him, and if anyone found out he was Prince Zuko, she was certain word would get back to Ozai. And then he, his men, they'd come and destroy the community she'd built her life in. She didn't want to imagine what they'd do to Zuko.

Katara realized she needed to make sure she was with him whenever he awoke and be the first person to talk to him.

She tidied up her small front room and made a simple bowl of soup over her fire. She tried to get Zuko to sip some of it, but he was unable in his still unconscious state. She opened his mouth, and using her waterbending skill, coaxed small drops of the liquid in, massaging in throat and hoping he'd swallow. Even though he had a strong muscular frame, it was obvious he'd been underfed for some time.

It wasn't easy, but she was able to get some liquid down her old friend's throat. As she poured herself a bowl, she heard familiar whispers at her front door and looked over to see a couple of the neighborhood kids peeking in. There were also a few who liked to come to her, usually ones she'd healed in the past. Some were just wanted to watch her work, mostly they wanted food, and many, she suspected, just wanted someone to talk to as their parents, if they had any, didn't seem to do that here.

"Miss miss Katara," a small boy said with shaggy, unkept hair and a dirty face. "We found Bapi," he said, holding up a dejected looking creature that had somehow become Katara's pet. He was a tree hopper, a squirrel-like creature that long, floppy ears that hung down past its shoulders and tiny front feet, and a big, bushy tail. They lived in the forest nearby, and the neighborhood children had found him wounded and near death after some street fighting game. Katara usually didn't work on animals, but when a group of small kids brought him to her crying, begging her to save him, she couldn't say no.

While she'd been able to save him, she wasn't able to properly fix his front, right arm, and he permanently held it tucked in close to his chest, preventing him from being able to climb trees properly. Bapi was stubborn though, in denial of this fact, and constantly running out back to the forest trying to join his kin. Katara didn't know if he ever found them, but follow them, he certainly couldn't, not with that weak arm, so come back to the camp where the children would usually find him, scoop him up, and bring him back to Katara.

"Trying to escape again, my sweet?" Katara said as Bapi hopped into her lap and reached out for food. She pulled a few nuts off her counter and fed them to the small creature, who nuzzled her affectionally. "Miru and I were beginning to miss you."

Miru was the black fox-kitty that Katara had also adopted. The animal had been jumping in her windows, searching for food, and no matter how many times Katara tried to shoo her away, she kept coming back, so Katara finally just accepted her. After Bapi finished chewing down the nuts Katara gave him, he jumped down to the floor and nuzzled Miru who was sleeping in front of the fire.

"Who's he?" the first kid, named Nito, asked, pointing to the man's body on her table.

"I don't know," Katara said, suddenly realizing she should cover him up more. She grabbed a blanked from her table and gently set it over him.

"Is he the fighter from the Crucible today?" One of the kids asked in awe.

"Yes, I think so," Katara said, her voice indifferent yet guarded.

"Oh, did you see him, Lizo?" Nito asked. "He's a real fighter."

Nito's voice was brimming with an admiration Katara didn't like, and she let out a deep sigh. "Kids, you know I don't like it when you go to those fights."

Nito shrugged. "My dad took me."

Katara just shook her head. There was nothing she could do about it anyway.

"Are you boys hungry?"

"Yeah!" they both said eagerly.

"Ok, one bowl of soup each. But then you really need to get home, it's getting dark."

"Thanks!" Nito said, but Lizo just looked down at his feet. Katara always suspected home wasn't a happy place for that kid. But there was nothing she could do about that either, so she ladled two larger servings for each boy, who both giggled as they slurped it, regaling Katara with tales of their adventures that day.

After they left, she checked on Zuko again. He was still out, but as she pressed her hand to his skin, she felt like he might have a fever. She looked at the wound on his abdomen again, sensing the infection was still there. She decided to work on it again the next day, but she recleaned it and reapplied the medicinal herbs she also knew would help. Leaving a cold cloth on his forehead, she covered him in blankets for the night and prepared herself for sleep.

Much later, in the dead of the night, Zuko finally began to stir. It was so dark, he could hardly see a thing. He didn't know where he was, and the trauma of the earlier day fragmented his memory. At first, the only thing he remembered was the fight. His instinctively brought his hands to his body and discovered he was mostly intact.

No blood, no open wounds, he thought.

He was still too out of it to realize what a miracle this was, but he was operating only on instinct now, and once he knew he was able to walk, he quietly got up and tried to make a plan.

The sheet Katara had placed over him slipped to the floor. His brain did not register his nakedness, and he began to look around.

There was a dying fire on the far side of the room, and he allowed himself a little firebending to brighten up the room. He soaked the flames, and they leaped forward, illuminating the area.

It was a small space. And he was alone. That was good, he thought.

He noticed the jars lining the wall, saw herbs hanging and drying, his first thought was this must be someone's home. It didn't look like a prison, not a palace, that was sure. His hands lightly brushed over some simple objects. A tattered blanket, folded neatly, bowls and other earthenware dishes, chipped and dented, all stacked in tidy rows.

He remembered he was in the Earth Kingdom, he'd been looking for a large settlement camp there was far from the Phoenix King's terror. Had he found it?

Zuko tried to remember how he got here, figure out if he was in the presence of an enemy or friend. There were no shackles, he wasn't tied up or tied down. That has to be a good sign, he thought.

But every step he took pained him. Flashes of the previous day's fight fell on him hard. He remembered being thrown amongst a cheering crowd, swords slashing, whips slicing his body.

That was not a good sign, he thought. He shook his head again, trying to remember more.

He took another step, and something screamed out. His foot hit something warm, something furry, something angry. A black foxkitty that'd been curled up on the floor snarled at him.

"Shhhh," Zuko said softly, trying not to provoke the creature further. It gave him another angry mew and retreated to another spot to sleep.

His heart immediately began to hammer, afraid the creature has alerted his captors, so he looked for an exit.

Zuko knew he had to find some place where he could be alone to recollect his strength and memories, then he could figure out what to do next.

He walked towards the door and threw aside the heavy curtain that covered it. He was immediately disoriented when he stepped through. This place was darker than he expected the outdoors to be. As he focused his eyes upwards, looking for some sign of the night sky to guide him, something hit his face.

"What the-" He screamed and stumbled backwards. Another warm and angry creature, this one was yapping on his face.

Katara work up in a fright and saw Zuko fall naked through her doorway, an angry Bapi attached to his face, chittering alarm in his tiny forest-animal voice.

Katara jumped out of bed and rushed over. Zuko was again unconscious, sprawled halfway between her working her and bedchamber.

She just shook her head as she looked at him, uncertain of how she was going to get him back on her table. She looped her hands under his back and behind his knees, awkwardly trying to carry him, but he was too tall and heavy for her, and no matter what position she tired, she could not lift him. She positioned herself behind him, pushing her hands under his arms, and dragged him back to the table. There, she was able to lift him up into a chair, and from the chair, she was able to raise him onto the table, but it wasn't gentle work, and she was surprised she didn't wake him as she dumped his body from one position to the next.

She dusted herself off and blew a piece of hair from her face, damp with sweat from all the effort it took her to move him. She assessed him quickly with her eyes. If she'd done any damage, she'd heal it in the morning. Right now, it was too dark to tell if he'd sustained any more injuries. Picking up the sheet from the floor, she softly threw it over top of him, and went back to bed.

Katara kept a close watch over him the next day. He hardly moved throughout the morning, but he grunted a few times as she attended his healing. It didn't look like he'd injured himself over the night, but many of his bruises were growing deeper and darker still.

But there was nothing she could do about that.

Then, in the midafternoon, she heard him groan. He opened his eyes, and tried to get up.

He started to stumble off the table again, and she rushed over to him.

"Water," he moaned weakly.

Once she safely got him laying back down, she grabbed a bowl of water and brought it to his lips. Cradling his head softly, she raised him up and tried to get him to drink. The water spilled out of the corners of his mouth at first, but his body realized what was happening and he began to drink.

She had to bring two more large globs of water over with her bending before he was finished, and when he did, he passed back out.

Katara slept uneasily that night, afraid he might wake up again, uncertain of what he'd do. She awoke nearly every hour or two and went to check on him. She didn't want to take the chance he'd be get up in the middle of the night, that he might leave and she'd never get the chance to talk to him.

For some reason, that was important to her, and she didn't know why.

When Zuko came to again the next morning, his faculties came with him, and his focus was sharper than before. He quietly lifted himself up and took in the room. In the bright light of day, he again saw the many vessels and jars aligning the walls, but vats of water, hanging herbs and other plants. He guessed he was at an apothecary.

He remembered arriving at the Earth Settlement, he remembered being badly beaten, he remembered knowing he couldn't use his firebending, hating it, but taking the brutal punishment as it was important he got into the city.

He looked down at his arms, noticing how healed his wounds were. What should have been ugly, bloody bandaged were white, and when he started to pull them off, he saw clean, neat pink lines from cuts that were nearly healed, perfectly. It should have taken months for them to get that way. He brought his hand up to his chin, his stubble only a few days old. So, unless he caretaker had also been shaving him, he realized he was probably in the presence of a healer. A waterbending healer, no less, and there weren't many of those left in the world.

Zuko's mind didn't even go to Katara. It'd been so long, and his brain didn't even consider the possibility that she could be here, that he'd ever see her again.

So when she returned to the room, upon hearing his movement, and as he saw her, language left him. He sputtered as the gears in his brain processed her face and searched for words.

But finally, he managed, "Katara?"


	3. Part One: Healing Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko's Story. We get to find out what he's been up to before meeting Katara and discover what happened to a few other central characters to the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi All! And thank you so much for reading. This is an exposition-heavy chapter, and in an effort to move my story forward, I had to get it all out here. Hopefully I didn't sacrifice the quality of the writing too much, and I'd always love to hear what you think!

"Katara, you're alive?" He was astonished, still not certain he understood what he saw. But as the blue eyed woman approached, he knew it was her. "Am I alive?" he sputtered, looking down at his impossibly healed body, and briefly wondered if he might be dead. Was this some sort of afterlife?

"Yeah," she said with a small smile, "we're both alive." She walked over to the table and gently tried to get him to sit back down. "But you need to be careful, you're still badly injured."

But Zuko's mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the situation.

"But what are you doing here?" He knew why he'd come to the Earth Kingdom camp, but it seemed too much for Katara to also be here.

"This has been my home for a few years. What are you doing here?" She said pointedly.

Zuko didn't know what to say. "You live…here?"

"Yes," she said, her voice carrying a slight annoyance at having to repeat herself. But Zuko didn't notice it.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Katara countered, grabbing a bowl of soup and bringing it to him. "After…uh…I wandered around a lot, trying to help other refugees as best I could, searching for any sign of, um, I don't know. Hope?" she chuckled softly, unconvincingly. "But when your sister put a bounty on me, sent her spiders searching for waterbending women, I had to keep moving, hide my bending abilities almost entirely. I tried to get as far away as I could, and somehow ended up here. The settlement's leader offered to protect me, in exchange for my services, so here I am." She said this with an indifferent shrug as she continued to help Zuko eat.

Zuko's face twisted in concern. He knew his sister wanted nothing more than Katara's head on a platter after what she'd done to her, and his father had given her all but free rein to get it. Azula was hellbent on capturing the waterbender who'd defeated her, and created a team of highly trained assassins she called her spiders to complete the task. Zuko was honestly amazed Katara made it so far. He knew a lot of other waterbending women hadn't. He wondered if Katara knew that too.

"But do these people know you're a waterbender?"

"No," Katara shook her head softly, "they just know I'm a healer. No one here seems to know it has anything to do with waterbending." Katara told him this with a reassuring smile, even though it wasn't entirely true. She knew certain people suspected it. But nothing had come of it in over two years, so she no longer let it worry her. She was careful to only bend in private, when no one could see, and what happened beyond that was out of her control.

"What about you?" she turned to him and asked, "the whole world thinks you're dead. Do you want to tell me why you're here?"

Zuko shifted a bit uncomfortably and turned himself to search Katara's face. He looked deeply in her eyes, searching for something.

Zuko was working with members of a resistance. There numbers were small, but growing, and he'd been sent here to the outlands to connect with other important players. They were starting to convene in the great settlement camps like this one since the Phoenix King had little power here.

Surely this can't be a coincidence, he thought to himself, probing Katara's eyes for some sign of hope. If she's here, that means she has to be a part of it….

But she just blinked blankly back at him, awaiting his response.

Zuko knew better to risk it. Members of the resistance never revealed themselves to each other directly. They had several secret ways, and as much as Zuko hoped Karata was a part of it, that she'd be able to connect him to the other rebels, he didn't gamble.

"I guess my story's not too different from yours. Just trying to get as far away from the cities as I can. Hide, stay safe."

Katara just nodded. She got up and put his empty bowl in a wash basin. "This place should suit you well, then. The Fire Nation's army rarely comes out here, and Patzu pays them well when they do, so they mostly leave us alone."

"Patzu?"

"He's the leader, I guess. I don't know what you call him, like if there's a title or anything. But he keeps order, for the most part, and lets most of the refugees pass through."

"As long as they're not Fire Nation?"

"As long as they're not firebenders," she corrected, returning to him with a cup of water. "Anyone can stay if they can prove themselves useful, only about half of them do."

"Good to know," Zuko said, downing the liquid she'd brought him.

"You can probably stay, if you want, but no one can know you're…you" she told him, her voice growing more serious.

"Yeah, I know." Zuko didn't need to be told this.

"Luckily, so many people have burnt scars these days, you'll blend right in."

Zuko was a bit surprised she said this and looked at her curiously. He waited to see if she'd ask him anything, about her brother, his uncle, the war. But she didn't.

He looked over at her, now cleaning the simple dishes she'd used to feed him.

He laid back down on her stone table, staring up at the earthen ceiling. His mind raced back to the last time he'd seen her, where, after defeating Azula and learning Aang had failed to stop the Phoenix King, he'd promised her he'd kill his father. Looking deep into her blue eyes, he believed that promising her would somehow make everything come true.

But obviously he'd failed. Neither needed to say it.

He remembered going to his girlfriend Mai's, trusting her after what she'd done for him at Boiling Rock. With her, he waited for his father to return to the Fire Nation capitol, planning the perfect time to strike. No Agni Kai, he didn't want it to be a fair fight. This wasn't about his honor, his revenge, it was about saving the world. He'd planned on sneaking in and striking when his father would least expect it, each of his dual blades on either side of the neck. Nothing but blood, no chance of escape.

To this day, Zuko didn't think he'd feel bad about doing it, if he'd ever gotten the chance.

He didn't though. He remembered the morning vividly, walking with Mai through her family's inner corridor to the private courtyard.

"I'll be right with you," she told him, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm going to go grab us something to eat."

He didn't think anything of it at the time, but in his memory, those words always sounded like I'm sorry.

When he got to the courtyard, Azula was there waiting for him. Lightning crackled around her fingers, her eyes sharp as knives. Zuko immediately took a stance, prepared to fight.

"Mai told me once that she loved you more than she feared me." Azula laughed, "I told her that was the wrong decision."

Zuko's brain barely registered Mai's betrayal before Azula attacked. She sent her blats at him full force, and he was hardly able to deflect them. But he did. He sent the bolts of pure lightning into the family's home. Walls cracked. Roofs crumbled. Azula cackled.

She then got Zuko with one good blast. He fell but had dodged it mostly.

Mai came running. "Azula, you said you wouldn't-"

"I said you should have feared me more," Azula roared, and she sent Mai flying with another jolt.

Azula then sent strike after strike of lightning on him. Zuko continued to deflect it, just barely. He found a bit of cover behind a fallen column, and as he tired to regain his focus, he saw Mai's fallen body, thrown far against the opposite wall, a big black spot burning on her chest.

"Come out come out wherever you are, Zuzu." The lightning pulsing from her fingers popped. "That's one girlfriend down, one to go." She laughed.

Zuko jumped from his hiding spot and threw at her every bit of energy he had. The lightning she threw at him was forced back into her arms. A shock of horror escaped Azula's lips. Neither she nor he knew quite what was happening, but he'd somehow forced her energy back upon her, and her right arm burned, falling black and useless to her side.

Azula fell to her knees and screamed. It was a sound something unholy. Blue flames erupted around, her. Zuko considered trying to finish her off, but didn't think he could get close enough and instead used the opportunity to escape. He quickly darted around the rubble, stopping briefly to visit Mai.

Azula's lightning had burned a hole right through her. He hoped she'd died instantly, and well. Zuko didn't quite love her, they hadn't got that far, but she was the first person to make him feel unashamed of his scar. He remembered how she'd kissed him softly, never teasing, never laughing, never even seeming to notice it. Once when he'd confessed his insecurity to her, all she said was:

"I don't even know what you're talking about, Zuko. All I see is you."

Whatever Mai had done that day, she didn't deserve this.

He gently pressed her eyelids down over her dark eyes, now bloodshot, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he left. He could hear Azula still wailing in the background, spitting fire all around her.

It was later that he learned she'd lost the use of her right arm. But what she now lacked in physical ability, she made up for in pure anger. Zuko hung around the capital city for a few more weeks, hiding in the shadows, waiting for his father to come home, wanting his chance to strike.

But it never came.

He'd learned Azula had told his father than she'd brought down Mai's family's entire estate, there was no chance he'd survived.

All Fire King Ozai did was raise on skeptical eyebrow and look at Azula's blackened arm.

"You can't fight now."

"Yes, I can!"

Even with one hand bandaged and carried in a sling, she made a perfect firebending form with her other and shot a bolt of pure, hot lightning right before her father's feet.

He gave no reaction and dismissed her.

It was after this that Azula threw herself entirely into finding her brother, Katara, and anyone else who got in her way. She got her old friend, Ty Lee, from jail and enlisted her help to train about a dozen of the Fire Nation's best warriors.

When her recruits finished training, Azula decided to initiate her little spider army.

"Ty Lee," she said sharply, as all her soldiers lined up. Ty Lee, dressed in all black, stood at Azula's attention. "I think we have before us some of the best fighters in the world."

"Yes," Ty Lee agreed, meeting Azula's eyes and trying to stand strong even though she was still deeply afraid. Azula had told her what she'd done to Mai, and Ty Lee knew she didn't have a choice other than obey.

"Marvelous, aren't they?" Azula marched back and forth in front of them, her long black cape blowing in the wind. She inspected everything, ensuring all was perfect.

"Yes, Azula, they truly are." Ty Lee's voice trembled slightly. She didn't trust Azula and was always on edge about what she'd do next.

"You think they'll do whatever I tell them?"

"Oh, yes, Azula. They'd be stupid not to."

Azula could tell by her voice that Ty Lee meant it. She smiled.

"Let's put that to the test, shall we. Recruit!"

The first solider in line walked up to her, standing ready.

"Kill her," Azula said simply, pointing at her old friend.

Ty Lee gasped in horror, but before she could do anything, Azula's spider drove his blade through her chest. Ty Lee's dead body crumbled to the ground.

"Find the blue-eyed waterbending bitch and kill her. But bring my brother to me."

The troops dismissed.

Zuko remained in the Fire Nation capitol. He hid, too close to find apparently, and tried to think up a way to get to his father, and his sister too. He spent weeks watching the guards, noting their routines, thinking of all the secret ways he knew to get in and out of the palace, and he thought he was coming close to a plan when one day a man knocked into him in the street.

"Hey, watch it!"

The man was hooded and kept moving, but he pressed something into Zuko's palm. When Zuko opened it, he saw it was a White Lotus tile.

He followed the man, quickly running after him down the streets. He nearly lost the name a few times, and he winded, always walking quickly, but eventually they found themselves on an empty street and the figure stopped before a doorway. The man simply stared at Zuko.

Zuko didn't know what to do, but after a few minutes, he decided to show himself. What did he have to lose at this point? He held out his hand with the lotus title and dropped his hood, revealing his scarred face.

The hooded man simply nodded, and stepped aside, indicating he wanted Zuko to enter.

The people inside never said a word; no matter how many questions he asked, no matter how nicely or how mean. They took Zuko to a tiny, windowless inner room and didn't let him leave. But they fed him and offered him clean clothes. He was beginning to think he'd somehow been tricked into turning himself over as a prisoner, but he knew if Azula or his father had been behind it, he wouldn't have been treated this well.

After several days, or maybe even a week, someone opened the door, and Zuko was led out into their main room where several hooded figures had gathered. In the center of the room was a large crate, and they made it clear they wanted him to enter it.

You've got to be kidding me, he thought to himself, but trusting the White Lotus tile, trusting his uncle really, he climbed in. He was carried through the Fire Nation capitol city and to the ports, and he knew he was being put on a ship. Zuko waited hours for someone to come to him, but no one did, and he tried to get out of the crate, but couldn't.

He cursed himself and waited, growing more and more hungry and uncomfortable, but he never risked saying a word. This had all better be worth it, uncle, he grumbled to himself.

His crate was eventually lifted and carried to another ship. He heard the sailors talking, smelled a bit of fresh salty air through the cracks, and heard the passage and packing of other cargo. His crate was placed below decks, somewhere dark, and again he waited until finally he heard footsteps, a door open, and the lifting of the lid to his crate.

"Prince Zuko," a man said, bowing his head.

Zuko climbed out of his box, nearly stumbling, his muscles were so achy and sore from being confined so long. He didn't recognize the man at all, but he bowed his head, respectfully.

"We're very happy to have you."

"Yeah, thanks." He wanted desperately to ask these people about the White Lotus, and he had to stop the questions from tumbling out of him. But he knew he shouldn't, he wasn't yet trained in the cryptic arts, as his uncle called it, and he knew nothing would be revealed to him if he didn't know the secret codes or proper protocols. "I am happy to be here," he said, recalling the grace of his princely upbringing, "and appreciate the hospitality you have to offer me."

The man said nothing more, and retreated from the room, but he returned shortly thereafter with a trey of food and water for Zuko to wash up with.

On the ship, again, no one spoke to him, though he could hear the sailors going about their daily work. He offered to help, many times, but the man declined each time.

At least Zuko had a window here, and he spent much of his time slumped before it, staring out at the wide, unending sea. He hadn't seen a single speck of land in days, and had no idea where he was going, when he was going to get there.

He spent the rest of his time working out, doing pushups, pullups, crunches. Anything to keep his mind from wandering, wondering, what it so often did.

Had Azula and her spiders killed Katara yet? They probably did.

Were his uncle and his friends going to be able to stop his father? He had to believe they could.

What had happened to Aang? His other friends?

He smiled, sadly, as he thought of Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph as his friends. Sometimes he still couldn't believe that they'd accepted him, taken him into his group, after all that he'd done to them. So much had changed over the past year, as turned from the bratty, banished prince hellbent on pleasing his father to the young man, determined to help save the world from his father.

As he thought about how so much had changed over the past year, he tried to let that give him hope for how much could change over the next.

For the better, he told himself, again and again. A year from now, when I'm looking back, I won't believe how much has changed, how much I've improved, how better the world is…

But all that change Zuko'd been hoping for didn't come. At least, not quickly as quickly as Zuko would have liked.

He was taken to his uncle, after several weeks at sea, to a small island far from the Fire Nation's homelands.

Zuko and Iroh embraced. "Zuko, I'm so proud of you."

Zuko couldn't stop his tears from flowing. "But uncle, I failed."

"But you tried," Iroh said, hugging him tightly. "You tried."

His uncle told him more about the White Lotus, about its various chapters all over the world. He explained to Zuko that White Lotus members from within the Fire Nation were the ones to get him out. Once they realized he was there, they quickly figured out what he was likely planning, and worked to bring him safely to Iroh.

Zuko was a bit annoyed they didn't think he could do it. "How do you know I wouldn't have been able to kill my father? You didn't even give me a chance!" he once spat angrily.

Iroh looked him directly in the eye, but all he said was, "Zuko, my boy, I love you."

Zuko knew what he meant. He knew he wouldn't have been able to get to his father, and even if he had, Ozai or his guards would have Zuko before he could have killed Ozai. He hung his head in shame, and Iroh squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

At first, on the little island, living in an old house with his uncle, Zuko was excited to learn everything about the White Lotus, eager to help move the rebellion along and bring down his father once and for all. Iroh told him everything, the history, how all their members were hidden, and would only reveal themselves through Pai Sho.

And for months Zuko practiced and learned their secret codes for he first had to brush up on the rules of the game, which Uncle Iroh bemoaned.

"But Zuko, how many times have I taught you this game?"

Zuko just apologized, he'd never paid much attention before, never understanding its importance.

"We've played this at least a hundred times."

Zuko just huffed, he'd hated that game, and was only before just to please his uncle.

But now, he understood how the game had a purpose and was eager to learn: how placing a water tile by a tree tile meant one thing, but placing a tree tile by a water tile meant something else. The fire tile could cancel out the water, and vice versa, but it was a move that usually got you nowhere.

"It's not enough to simply look at the board, Zuko. You have to understand not only these tiles, but all of their possible future combinations."

Zuko sighed heavily. He still hated this game, but he practiced it with as much dedication and focus as he had anything else, and he was genuinely beating his uncle at it after a few months.

"Bold move, Prince Zuko, bold move." Iroh said with a laugh.

But as he mastered the secret codes of Pai Sho, Zuko grew impatient with the lack of news, lack of action.

"But why aren't we doing anything, Uncle!"

"We are, Prince Zuko," Iroh told him calmly. "There are a great many members out there, slowly building their numbers, but these are very dangerous times."

Zuko knew he was right, but still he complained. And when he did, Iroh would make him tea.

Two years passed. Several members of the White Lotus visited the island, which was located at busy trading crossroads. They'd go to the town center, with stories of traveling from one area to the next, as spice sellers, silk merchants, sailors and seamen alike, but when they came to town and asked to if there was anywhere to play pai sho, they eventually met Uncle Iroh.

He was always happy to play anyone who wanted to join him, but Zuko grumbled, waiting only for the secret code.

"Every game is an opportunity to learn something," Iroh told his nephew time and time again.

One day, while sitting at the pai sho table like they usually did, a man entered, he was wearing heavy, weatherworn cloaks and a wide brimmed had.

"A pai sho table!"

"Would you like to play a game?" Iroh asked.

"I've been out to see for weeks, this is lovely!"

"Lovely indeed." Iroh smiles and passed out the tiles. Zuko watched skeptically from the bar.

"You first, my friend."

The strange man inclined his head in thanks.

"Ahh, the sun tile," Iroh said not revealing his surprise. Zuko nearly stumbled over himself though. Iroh gave him a dirty look. "An interesting first move."

"Does the day not begin with the sun? Why should this game be any different?"

"True words, my friend," Iroh said, he then set down a wind tile on the board.

Zuko's heart got more excited.

"For a new day, then my friend, let's see if the wind will blow in a new direction," Iroh said with a small laugh.

The stranger scratched his chin and put down a tree tile on the board.

Zuko's heart sank. That wasn't the tile he was supposed to play. This man clearly wasn't part of the White Lotus. Iroh just chuckled. Zuko scowled.

"Are you kidding me!"

"You must excuse my nephew," Iroh told his companion, "he gets very bad indigestion. It upsets his stomach. Why don't you get some calming jasmine tea?"

Zuko rolled his eyes and stormed off.

"Tell me, uncle," Zuko fumed when Iroh returned home. "What was it you learned from that game?"

Iroh frowned. That had actually been one of the most disappointing games of pai sho in his life. He just shook his head and grabbed his nephew's shoulder. He squeezed it tightly.

"We need to do something!"

"Zuko," Iroh frowned, "it is never a good thing if one man tries to change the world. Look at your father, look at the destruction he's wrought. The only good work to be done in this world is together. We need to wait, to find more people."

Zuko hung his head, but knew his uncle was right.

And right Iroh was. It took months, but the pai sho players began passing through. They learned of the people's growing anger, their calls for rebellion, for war. Zuko couldn't have been happier.

They learned that every one of the major cities, including ones within the Fire Nation, had organized groups with leaders, all preparing to strike. But the people in the cities were not enough. Phoenix King Ozai army was spread far and wide, and with the destruction he'd caused on the day of the comet, when he'd burned large swaths of the Earth Kingdom and several of their most important cities to the group, the people in the remaining cities were not enough. So many people had fled, were refuges roaming the countryside. It was these people they needed to unite.

"Several of our most important members were lost," Iroh told Zuko one day. "When your father burnt the world."

Zuko hung his head, remembering the devastation of that day.

"We think many of them are still out there though, hiding amongst the refugees, hopefully meeting more people with a grudge against the Fire King. We need to reconnect with them."

Iroh resisted at first when Zuko volunteered, but the White Lotus needed as many members as they could out moving amongst the people, and there was little more Iroh could teach him on the little island they'd made the home for the past two years.

Zuko's firebending was in top form, and he was one of the best swordsmen Iroh had seen in his life, more skilled with a blade than his uncle had even been, in his prime. Zuko'd memorized all the pai sho codes, and knew the importance of keeping secrets, being subtle, being safe.

"Take care of yourself, Zuko," Iroh said on the day he was set out to leave.

"I will, uncle."

And with that, Zuko, and several other initiates, set off, trying to lose themselves amongst all the other scattered, scared people fleeing the Fire Nation to find those determined to defeat it.


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko startled when he awoke. The face of a small child was staring at him, just a few inches away from his own, with curious blinking eyes.

"Woah!" he jumped, lurching backwards and almost falling off the table.

"You look like me," the child, called Benli, said as he brought up his arm. A dark red fire scar swirled around it.

Zuko only nodded. He looked around the room, and his memories came back to him, and then he remembered.

"Katara," Zuko muttered, trying to get up, but his side was still badly injured, and he gripped it, slumping slightly.

"Miss miss Katara!" one of the children chimed, "he's awake!"

In addition to the Benli, the child who'd been watching Zuko sleep, there were two more playing by her hearth.

"Wow, easy now," Katara said, rushing to his side to prevent him from moving too much and reopening the would on his stomach. "You're still badly injured."

"Right," Zuko said, meeting her eyes, and then looking down at his stomach. A dark, ugly color surrounded the slice in his skin, and it was swollen and still a bit infected. Katara suspected there was some injury to his internal organs, but she'd be better able to heal him once he could guide her to his pain.

"Alright kids, I've got some work to do," she told them, ready to tend to Zuko now that he was awake.

"But, no…" they all moaned.

"Time to go home, I need to help the patient."

"But can't we help you?" One protested.

"No, I'm sorry," she said in a sweeter voice than she normally spoke. "Here's some food," she handed them small pouches filled with nuts and dried fruits. She handed an extra one to one of the boys.

"Tenso," she said, suddenly very serious, "promise me you'll give this one to your sister."

He let out a deep, low whine. "Do I have to?"

"Yes." Katara said. "You have to promise me you'll make sure she gets it."

"Oh, all right." He grabbed he, and then ran out the door with the other children.

"What's in the bag?" Zuko asked.

"Just more food," she said. Zuko waited for her to explain why the sister specifically needed that food, but she did not elaborate. Instead, she threw the curtains over her front door and windows.

"Is she sick or something?"

"Who?"

"That kid's sister."

"Oh, no. Not at all." Katara pulled some water from her many jars, and it sparkled as it hovered in the air above Zuko. "She's just unwanted, a coal kid, so when supplies are short, which they so often are, she's the first to go hungry."

Coal kids were what people in the Earth Kingdom called the babies left behind by the Fire Nation soldiers as they moved through the land, conquering the cities and so often their women. Zuko had heard of this.

Zuko watched Katara strangely as she told this story. She spoke so plainly as she undid the bandages around his torso and washed away the old ointment from his wound.

"The husband, I think he hates her. It's mostly because of her eyes, I think. They're yellow. I don't think the husband can stand to look at them. It'd be different if they were blue."

"Blue?" Zuko was surprised by this detail.

"Umhmm," Katara said, "The mother is from the water tribe, her husband too."

Zuko didn't know why this seemed strange to him. He guessed he thought the water tribesmen would be nicer to their kids. He didn't know why.

"Our blue eyes are always the fist to go," Katara told him, her voice still matter-of-fact and strange.

She remembered all the warnings she'd been told as a child, the dangers of sleeping with an outsider. They'll know when they look at the baby, so many said, hoping to scare the young women to keep to their kind.

Zuko couldn't bring himself to look at her, he felt guilty just by association. He knew his golden eyes were the pride of the Fire Nation, considered the most beautiful of all the various shades of brown found there.

"That's really kind of you, to look out at her."

Katara just shrugged. "It isn't much, probably not enough. She's going to have a hard life."

Zuko just nodded, not knowing what else he could say.

"I'm going to need to tell me where you feel the pain," she said, pulling water down from her sparkling orb.

"Oh, uh, it hurts everywhere, I think," he said with a slight chuckle.

"I'm going to need you to be a bit more specific than that."

"Okay."

Zuko laid back down and stared up at her floating orb of water. It caught the midday's sun and danced with sunlight. It was profoundly beautiful.

He felt her water, warm and soft, dancing on his skin, and tried his best to guide her. It was hard at first, his whole body ached, so many parts of him were sore,

Katara just closed her eyes, going where he told her, massaging her fingers in the pool of liquid, looking for the breaks in his body, the bad bits that needed to be taken out. She imagined rain falling on hard land, washing everything clean. She imagined erasure.

She worked on him for a few hours that day, and when she finished, he honestly felt transformed. It was a sensation he couldn't describe, that he'd never felt before, but he knew he was healed.

"You're getting good at that," he told her with a grateful smile.

She met his eyes and nodded. "Practice."

"Right."

Zuko drifted off to sleep as she bathed him. She sent soft streams of water around his arm, over his chest, and through his hair. This feels so good, he thought to himself, as deep slumber took him.

Zuko slept almost entirely for the next three days. While he was asleep Hiran and Mengu, the man in charge of settling the new members of society, stopped by, curious to learn about the man who'd survived the Crucible. Mengu wore long, simple robes that recalled some high position he'd held earlier in his life. He was a kind and graceful man. Hiran was just a thug, and Katara always supposed he'd been just as much a brute before the Phoenix King's invasion as after.

"Can he fight?" Hiran asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure." Katara hadn't prepared herself to answer any of these questions.

"Well, surely you must have spoken with him," Mengu asked her softly.

"Oh, yes, some."

"Well, tell us his name, and where he's from. I can start looking for a place for him now, so he an settle in quickly once he's fully recovered."

When Zuko woke up, it'd been six days since he'd arrived, and three days after Katara's final healing session. As he moved and stretched, sharp pains no longer held him back. He was still sore, and as he looked down at his body, still covered in nearly faded bruises, he saw he cut nearly healed. There was an ugly pink mark, about two inches long and it still felt a bit rough, but it was nearly healed. He then immediately inspected his arms, felt his shoulders, some of his back. He could hardly believe it.

He immediately got up, desperate to find food or water, and was for the first time aware he was covered in only a sheet. It began to drop and he grabbed it, and as he tried to tie it around him, Katara walked in.

"So he lives," she said with a soft smile.

"Um, yeah, hey," he tried to twist the sheet at his waist, suddenly a bit self-conscious. "All thanks to you."

She just smiled. "You probably want food?"

"Please."

Katara pulled a chair to the table on which Zuko had been lying for the past several days and served him a bowl of soup, and then another, and another.

"How long have I been out?"

"Nearly a week."

He scratched the stubble that now thickly occupied his chin. That felt about right.

"Do you plan on staying?"

Zuko searched her eyes, wondering why she was asking, looking to see if any of their old connection was there.

After several moments of silence, she continued. "Because Hiran and Mengu came asking."

"What's Hiran and Mengu?"

"Hiran works for the guards who protect the settlement, Mengu is in charge of helping the newcomers find their place."

Zuko nodded. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them I thought you wanted to stay."

Zuko smiled slightly at this and hoped it meant she wanted him to stay too.

"They asked me your name, where you came from. I didn't know if you had a story you wanted to use..."

He just shrugged. He'd become pretty adept at making up stories to suit his situation.

"Oh, good, because they kept asking me, so I told them you were Kozu, a ship builder from Trang."

The smile immediately fell from Zuko's face. "Kozu? That's not even a real name!"

"What! I don't know! I'm sorry. They asked me if you'd told me your name, and I said yes, not thinking they'd ask me what it was, and then they did, and I had to say something…"

"So you said Kozu?"

"All I could think about was your name! My brain just kept saying Zuko, Zuko, Zuko.

"You couldn't have said Lee, or Jin, or Kai? Something normal?"

"And Kuzo came out."

Zuko let out something between a sigh and a laugh. He really thought it was a stupid name, but it didn't really matter. He could be Kuzo for a while he supposed.

"Okay, and why am I a ship builder from Trang?"

"Well, I couldn't tell them you were a shoemaker, because then they might ask you to make shoes. Or a leather smith, and then they would have asked you to work leather."

"So?"

"What if you can't do those things! There are no ships here, they'll never know you can't actually build ships!"

Zuko wanted to tell her it wasn't that simple. All he had to do was run into one ship builder who wanted to talk to him, and he'd quickly be figured out. But he was resourceful, and smart, and supposed he'd figure it out.

"And Trang?"

"Oh, I don't know, it just came out."

"Right," Zuko said. He'd really wished she hadn't told them this, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Kozu the ship builder from Trang," he said, a few times to himself, and repeated later that night when Mengu returned.

"Hmm, strange name," Mengu said, looking Zuko over.

"Yep," Zuko agreed. He shot Katara a dirty look, but only in jest. She just shrugged and mouthed, sorry.

"Well, we have no ships here, but we do need construction workers. We're starting to build more and more houses, outside the settlement center. You look strong, would you be interested in that work?"

Zuko knew he probably didn't have much of a choice, and he didn't really care, so he accepted. He'd do whatever they needed him to so he could stay and start connecting with the other rebels.

"Wonderful. We need as many builders as we can get, with so many more refugees coming in, wanting to stay. This settlement is starting to become a proper city in it's own right." Mengu said with a proud smile.

"I appreciate the opportunity to do good work," Zuko told him with a respectful bow.

Mengu liked this. "When will he be well enough to work, Katara?"

"Soon. He's almost entirely healed."

"Wonderful. I'll begin making arrangements. We should have you a job and place to stay in just a few days. It's good to meet you, Kozu."

"And you," Zuko said, bowing his head again.

"Kozu," he said again after Mengu left, shaking his head.

Zuko tried he best to get as much information as possible out of Katara over the next few days, but her answers remained as plain and terse as always. She told him the settlement was called Hua Su by some, for the mountains sat right next to it. There was a developing town center situated on top of a little hill. Here, several earthbenders had made proper building structures for the more established and elite families. They were simple, square and made of stone, but it was a far cry from the hundreds of muddy tents most the refugees lived in outside the settlement center, in an area called the Lower Rungs. These camps flowed down the hillside, in various degrees of care. But in Hua Su, there was a market, a growing sector of shops, and of course, the Crucible, so Katara avoided the center as much she could. Her structure was on the outskirts of the center, in between the city proper and the lower rungs. She liked it here, where both help the richer families and charge them, but was still accessible to everyone else who needed her.

On his last day with her, she made Zuko go through several stretches, just to make sure all his muscles were mending. He followed her through many poses. So did some of the children who liked to visit her.

"And how does that feel?" She asked him.

Zuko was a bit embarrassed by how weak he'd gotten. In the nearly two weeks he'd spent with her, hardly moving, and the long, arduous journey he'd taken to get here, he'd lost a lot of his strength. He stumbled at bit, had a hard time balancing. But nothing hurt.

"Good," he told her.

She nodded, satisfied.

"And me? What about me?" Benli asked, trying to copy the pose.

Katara laughed this time, and added a bit more brightly, "you're looking good too!"

The afternoon, when Mengu came to get him, Zuko'd been waiting for Katara to say something more, to say anything, really. He found himself thinking, it'd be nice, at least, to have a friend.

"If there's ever anything I can do for you," he said, looking her deeply in the eyes.

"Just take care of yourself," she told him, and handed him a small bundle of food and supplies she'd prepared for him.

So he nodded, bowed respectfully, and followed Mengu to his new home.

Zuko was taken to one of the lower, lesser rungs where most of the non-earth kingdom refugees lived. Zuko found himself thinking lived might have been too generous a word. They mostly looked like they were from the colonies, earth kingdom families that had mixed with the Fire Nation as its empire spread. He saw more than a few sets of blue eyes too though. Some water tribesmen were here as well. Children screamed and drunk men fought in the alleys, and it looked to be mostly women, sitting huddled under tarps and tents, afraid, with the tiniest of fires keeping them warm. He knew they all feared what making too big a fire would say, afraid they'd be accused of benders and killed.

Zuko hung his head, he felt for these people.

He was taken to a large tented area and introduced to a name named Lan Sing. Lan Sing was in charge of building better housing structures, and Zuko thought both he and Mengu were good men.

"The Earthbenders won't help us," Lan Sing bemoaned, "so we have to build everything ourselves. They tell me you're a ship builder."

"Yes, sir. My name's Kozu, and I'm from Trang." Zuko made it sound natural and true.

"Trang? I'm not sure I've heard of it."

"It's a coastal town, very far from here." Zuko was a bit pleased with himself for how well he sold it.

Lan Sing showed Zuko to his hammock. "It's not much, but at least it's warm and dry."

Zuko nodded. He'd certainly seen worse. He and the other workers all slept in a large, communal area. Each had their own hammock, all stacked about three high. There was a great, warm fire in the center that they kept constantly going. And while the food was never good, they were always fed enough.

The work was hard, but good. Zuko enjoyed throwing his body into the physical activity. He liked to know he was getting stronger, feeling his muscles return to him and his final bruising fade. He also liked to feel that he was helping, building better homes for all these needy people.

He made friends with the other men, some of whom were decent, some of whom were jerks. They loved to hear his story of surviving the Crucible. Zuko didn't like to tell it, but they all believed he did.

"Man, didn't you want to fight back?" They'd say, passing around a horn of ale.

"Of course I did. But what could I do? I'm not a firebender."

As Zuko established this life, he also went to work finding other rebels. He listened very carefully, looking for any signals, any signs. But no one ever talked, openly or in codes, so he quickly established a reputation for loving pai sho.

"Man, Kozu, you sure love that game."

"Yep," Zuko said, taking a big, bitter gulp of ale. Both the name and the game rankled him. "I sure do."

He played it almost every night, rotating tables until he got a sense of which were the most popular. He started gambling at it, just to keep it a bit interesting for himself, and he was making a tidy little profit after a sometime.

He lived this way for three months, before Katara entered his life again.

"Miss miss Katara," Benli cried, pushing through her door. "Come quick! Come quick! They're going to kill him!"

"What, kill who?" she said, dropping the towel she was using to dry her pots and following.

"That nice man! The one with the scar who slept on your table for so long and played with us!"

Zuko! Katara's heart somersaulted, and she ran with the kid.

In the town's center the crowd was forming around Zuko and several armed men, the personal guards of a wealthy, local man. His name was Don Si, and he was a middle-aged man dressed in fine clothes who looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. He was standing next to his son, a teen about 15 years old, who had a busted lip and bruising eye.

Don Si's guards lunged and thrust at Zuko, but he had a sword, and he easily held them back.

"He's not supposed to have a weapon!" Don Si yelled.

"Then why'd you let me take it?" Zuko spat with a devilish grin. Zuko had easily disarmed one of the guards when they first went after him.

"Go get Patzu," Katara told Benli. The child nodded and ran.

The crowd cheered, loving the entertainment, chanting.

The same middle-aged man screamed, "kill him!"

The crowd roared as the guards went after him, but again, Zuko not only held them off, but disarmed another man. Using his own weight against him, Zuko avoided a clumsy blow, pulling the man into him, grabbing his sword, and then kicking him to the crowd.

The crowd loved it. It was now Zuko against three guards, none of whom were strong fighters. They made pathetic jabs at him, which he easily deflected with his two swords. He knew he could beat them, but not how he'd get out of the situation. The roar of the crowd was drawing more people, and Zuko noticed Hiran and his thugs approaching.

"Kill him!" Don Si yelled, again and again, annoyed his men were failing him. "He attacked my son, kill him!"

The guards, still circling him, made another thrust, and Zuko deftly knocked the sword from another one's hands and stepped menacingly towards the father and son accusing him.

The father and son moved backwards, afraid.

Zuko got a smug sense of pleasure out of this.

"Enough," a commanding voice screamed. Everyone in the town knew this voice and fell silent. Zuko looked curious to see who it was.

A large man, maybe 40, walked into the commotion. He had the body of a warrior, once, but looked like he'd gone a bit soft with age. A strong muscular frame that'd grown a fat belly. He still carried himself like a general, like a warrior, even though it'd been years since he'd seen a battlefield. Zuko knew this must be Patzu. He was flanked by a couple other tough looking men.

"Someone tell me what on earth is going on here?" Patzu demanded as he surveyed Zuko, skillfully holding two swords and holding the other men at bay.

"He can fight," Hiran leaned towards Patzu's and whispered. Patzu just nodded.

Don Si tried to take control of the situation. He spoke in a formal tone. "This hoodlum attacked my son! Look at what he did to his face!" Don Si grabbed his son and pushed him forward.

Patzu scowled. "Did you attack this boy?"

"He was raping a girl," Zuko spat.

"That's not true!" A teenage boy with a busted lip and blackening eye screamed.

"Oh yeah," Zuko glared at the boy and his father. "She was screaming!"

"Maybe because she liked it," the teenager said, trying to sound tough.

"She was screaming for help," Zuko said with disgust.

"Who are you?" Patzu asked Zuko, wanting to get straight to the point.

"I'm," he sighed, "I'm Kozu, a boat builder from Trang. I've been working for Lan Sing in one of the lower rungs, building houses for—"

Patzu wasn't interested in this. "Do you have family here?"

Zuko didn't know why this mattered. "No."

"And you live in the lower rungs?"

Zuko nodded.

"And you did attack Don Si's son?"

"I stopped him from raping a girl, yeah."

Patzu just shook his head. "If the young woman would like to accuse Jiang of rape, she is free to do so, and her family and his can dispute the matter with Don Si."

Zuko spit some blood from his mouth, more out of disgust than need. He knew this wasn't justice. It was just powerful families doing what they wanted.

"But for now," Patzu continued, "you admit to harming this man's son, and since he outranks you, he can demand his own justice."

"I want him dead!" Don Si screamed like an upset child.

As all of this unfolded, Katara stood by watching in horror. The words left her mouth before she knew she was saying them. "Do I not outrank him, Patzu?"

Everyone turned towards her in surprise.

"What?" Don Si cried.

"Do I not outrank him, Patzu?" Katara stepped forward, standing tall, confident. She kept her voice confident and commanding.

"There's no way that herb witch outranks me! I'm the finest silk merchant in town!"

Don Si had no idea what was going on, and anger boiled through him at the way he and his son were being treated. Honestly, Zuko didn't know what was happening either, but Patzu glared at Katara. If anyone bothered to notice, he looked a tiny bit afraid. She had power over him.

"Do I not outrank him?" Her tone was cutting.

"Well, yes, I suppose you do." Patzu admitted. "But what does that have to do with this man."

Don Si almost went into spasm.

"I'll marry him."

The crowd gasped. As did Zuko.

"I'll marry him."

"You're sure?" Patzu said, a bit skeptical.

"What?" Don Si's voice cracked. "A potion peddler!? Has she—"

But Patzu cut him off before he could continue. "She's from a noble family, the northern water tribe, yes?"

"Yes." Katara agreed. "And I will marry him. He's with me. Your son's complain is now against me, and I say he got what he deserved." She glared at Don Si.

"This can't be happening!" Don Si wailed, rage almost foaming at his mouth. "I am a prosperous silk merchant, my family—"

"I don't care," Patzu voice fell hard and final. "She outranks you. If she wants to claim this man as her husband, she decides how justice is served, and I won't hear any more of it!"

Patzu turned to leave.

Katara ran up to Zuko, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to follow her.

He was just comprehending what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, finally getting to the good stuff. Comments deeply appreciated.


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